So You Think You Can Get F#%ked Up [FringeTIX]
Seb Carboncini @ The Tuxedo Cat – Rooftop
10:45pm, Thu 18 Feb 2010
It’s with great joy that I ascended to the Tuxedo Cat’s Rooftop Bar for the first time this year; it’s a great venue, most of the staff recognise me from last year and, as I have a seat whilst jotting down some notes and sipping on a mystery red that’s really quite delicious, I think – and these words really did form in my brain – “it doesn’t get much better than this.” I’m utterly content and happy.
Irene appears, having just seen Marcel Lucont – we grab some more drinks, sit and chat, wait for them to set up for So You Think You Can Get F#%ked Up. It’s taking awhile, and I’m thinking that my cunning plan – to make the 11:30pm show of Circus vs Sideshow, with just five minutes between the two shows – is going to unravel.
The thing is, the weather is too balmy, the wine is too warming, and the company too lovely for me to care anymore. So, even before we enter the TuxCat’s Rooftop venue, I’ve given up all hope of the last show. And that leaves my mind clear – but slightly hazy – for Seb Carboncini’s reality TV pisstake.
Irene, disconcertingly, is one of those front-row type of people, so it’s there we perch. Things don’t start well – the video projection that the show heavily relies upon (for intro titles and “ad breaks”) was displaying just fine, but there was no audio. There’s a bit of abuse from the dressing room behind the stage, in itself a source of much hilarity, and an audience member helps sort the problems out. And then, with flashy graphics and a lush aural introduction, we’re introduced to Robbie Butternob, the host for this finale of So You Think You Can Get F#%ked Up. Robbie tells us that the contestants are battling it out for the “ultimate rehab holiday” and, with an absurdly toothy grin, leaps offstage to prepare the first contestant.
Inbetween meeting the four contestants, we’re treated to a collection of pre-recorded ads; and they’re pretty fucked up, especially the series of yoghurt ads which devolved into head-drenching ridiculousness. But they’re nowhere near as fucked up as the contestants: Carlo Cabana hit me square in the head with his shoe as he stripped down to his banana-and-gladwrap undergarments, Wayne Gravel’s bath-bong entry tape was amazing, and by the time Rhonda Hangover vomited Up’n’Go onstage (thrice) I was madly cackling at pretty much anything.
Seb Carboncini was fantastic throughout, inhabiting these characters with ease, abusing the tech in their native tongue (except Rhonda, of course – she was in no shape to be berating anyone). But there’s a couple of moments from this show which will live with me forever: the first was watching Carlo’s shoe fly through the air in slow-motion, arcing towards my head… I was sitting cross-armed with a beer in one hand, and I’ll be arsed if I’m spilling any beer. Or uncrossing my arms. Therefore, shoe hit head.
The second memorable moment was just after Rhonda vomited for the first time. Sure, we were laughing at the coarse crudity of the action, but then the smell wafted out to greet me, and a little voice in my head said “mmmmm… chocolatey.”
At that point, I just completely lost my shit.
This was a great bit of absurdist character comedy; I had a bloody brilliant laugh during the show and then proceeded to piss off the TuxCat crew until they insisted we leave at stupid o’clock in the morning. Seb had a chat after the show, sprinkling all manner of gossip, and… y’know… what a fucking great night :)